


Forever Young

by WonderstruckSwan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Gen Fic, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 12:02:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderstruckSwan/pseuds/WonderstruckSwan
Summary: On May 18th, Storybrooke gathers together to celebrate one of the most important days-Hope Swan-Jones' birthday.





	Forever Young

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the universe of A New Hope, but can be read alone. Takes place a month or so before the events of that fic. If you haven't read it, all you need to know is:  
> -Emma's brother is called Lucas (after Ruby and Granny Lucas)  
> -Rumple died in the s6 finale and Belle and baby Gideon moved in with Emma and Killian  
> -S7 didn't happen, so Robin stayed in Storybrooke and grew up alongside Hope.  
> I wanted to write this for Hope's actual birthday/anniversary of her appearing in the show, but unfortunately due to exams and moving back home it's a week late.

Normally, like every other teenager on the planet, Hope hates mornings. She definitely takes after her mother in that regard, pulling the blanket over her head and groaning after snoozing the alarm once, twice, three times. Gideon had taken the liberty of moving it across her bedroom so that she’d have to actually get out of her bed to turn it off, but he apparently forgot she has magic and can snooze it with a flick of her wrist.

Today though, well, it’s not really an exception. It’s different, meaning she only snoozes it once before getting up. After all, today’s special, as shown on the screen of her phone and the date on her calendar, circled in green marker.

Friday, May 18th. Her birthday.

She flings the covers off and rolls out of bed. The first thing she does is run over to the full length mirror in the corner of her room. She turns around, examining herself from every angle. Her red waves are wild and seemingly untameable, just like they always are in the mornings, and she’s still small and slightly pale (unfortunately, her hair colour comes with snow white skin-and it suits her grandmother far far more than it does her), same scattering of freckles and green eyes that everyone says are a double of her mother’s. It’s the exact same face and body she had when she was 14.

She’s not sure why she’s disappointed. Logically, she should know that nothing would have changed overnight. She knows for sure what she’d have liked to have happened; for her to grow at least an extra inch and for her hair to be more manageable and for the apple cheeks that made her look 12 to finally disappear. For her to look older, she supposes.

She hears her family getting ready downstairs, the bathroom door opening and closing outside, and shrugs it off. Maybe her magical teenage growth spurt will come later (and in this town, you never know). For now it was time to get on with her day. After all, you only turn 15 once.

After throwing on her uniform, running a brush through her hair and pulling it into a braid, she opens her door to head downstairs, only to find Gideon coming out of his room at the exact same time. And all at once, she feels her body ready to leap into action. Like she’s a lion and he is a limping gazelle.

“Gideon!” she shouts, her voice squeaking, and throws herself at him until he hits the wall with an audible thump. She presses her chin to his chest and looks up at him, laughing as he adjusts his glasses. “Know what day it is?”

“The day I finally see Doctor Whale about the injuries you’re definitely causing to my spine?” he groans, but he’s laughing too.

“Nope,” she replies, shaking her head, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. “It’s my birthday!”

“Oh, is it?” he asks. She lets him go, but the bouncing doesn’t stop, like something is running and fizzing through her veins. Actually something might well be; her magic isn’t always under control, especially if she’s feeling strong emotions. “I forgot. And I have this thing on today.”

“No you do not,” she tells him, poking his chest.

“No, I don’t,” he agrees, slinging an arm around her shoulders. They walk down to the kitchen together, where her parents and Belle are already present. Among the usual sounds of the radio playing old pop songs her mom loves, plates being moved around and the fridge opening and closing, Hope hears the unmistakable around of batter sizzling in a frying pan, and she shares a grin with Gideon.

“Race you!” she says, pushing him and taking the stairs two at a time even though he keeps walking, having never actually agreed to race.

She throws herself into the kitchen with all the grace of an excited puppy whose owners just came home, flinging her hair dramatically over her shoulders for good measure. At the stove, her dad grins, eyes still on the pancakes, but his shoulders shake from laughing. She looks around expectantly, briefly wondering where her mom is, eyeing the two adults in the room hopefully.

“Morning, Hope,” Aunt Belle greets, pulling her into a light hug. “And happy birthday, love.”

“Thanks Aunt Belle,” she replies. She runs over to the cupboard, grabs a plate and heads to the stove. Her dad looks at her out of the corner of his eye as she scans the pancake ingredients around the stove. Jug of batter, blueberries, raspberries, syrup-

“Where’s the chocolate chips?” she asks. “I can’t have pancakes without chocolate chips.”

“Well, theoretically you could,” he says, but a pout from her silences him. “But your mum’s off to get them-” His voice trails off as he hears a car door close outside, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile. “And it seems she’s just in time.”

Her mom comes in, discarding her red leather jacket, holding not one, but two bags of chocolate chips in her hand. Her face lights up when she sees Hope, standing expectantly with her plate next to the stove.

“You, miss, are very lucky the grocery store is open in the mornings,” she tells her, hitting her head gently with the bags. “And that no one was around to ask me why I was buying chocolate chips at this hour.”

“Thank you, Mom,” she replies, smiling at her, batting her eyelashes for the full effect. Her mom laughs and places a kiss on the top of her head.

“Happy birthday, kid,” she says, a smile on her face to match Hope’s. She hands Hope the bag of chocolate chips and her dad steps back to allow her to pour them onto the two waiting pancakes. She drops more than generous handfuls onto them, chuckling as her dad winces slightly.

“I have to turn them over, love,” he reminds her when she begins getting a little adventurous.

“Wow Hope,” Gideon says dryly from the doorway. “Want some pancake with your chocolate chips?” She sticks her tongue out at him, waggling it for good effect.

“Hey,” her mom reminds her. “Manners.” But Gideon’s smile shows he’s in no way offended. Especially since he scrunches up his own face when all three adults have their backs turned.

After finishing off their pancakes-chocolate chip for Hope and blueberry for Gideon-and brushing their teeth, the loud, fast knock at their door can only belong to one person. Right on time, slightly unusual for him. Her uncle usually can’t keep track of time if his life depended on it. But when they open the door, sure enough, Lucas is standing on the doorstep, hands behind his back.

“Hey,” he says breathlessly, looking at Gideon rather than Hope, his cheeks pink and eyes shining. Hope rolls her eyes. They’ve been officially “a couple” for two months, but she still has to deal with this sappy mess every morning.

“Hi,” Gideon replies, smiling softly.

“Hey,” Hope says, breaking the unspoken communication between them. Admittedly, it was kind of weirdly sweet to watch her brother and uncle make doey eyes at each other. She guesses that’s what it feels like at that point. Not that she’d know.

“Hey birthday girl,” Lucas greets. He takes his arm out from behind him, holding out a small pink gift bag. Hope’s mouth falls open and she lets out a laugh. “Consider this a sneak preview of what’s coming tonight.”

“Oh my gosh, Lucas,” she says, taking the bag gently. “You know you didn’t need to do this.”

“Of course I did, you’re my favourite niece,” he says. “Go on, open it. It’s more than a cute bag.” She shares a grin with him and opens it, pulling away the white tissue inside to get to the real present; a small wooden fairy door, painted dark blue and covered in gold glitter, Hope’s name written in silver cursive writing on a white wooden plaque above it.

“Lucas,” she says, unsure of what to say. “It’s gorgeous!”

“Thanks,” he replies, blushing slightly. “I mean it’s nothing really.” Hope knows he’s lying, seeing his ‘tell’-a lack of eye contact and hands in his pockets. This isn’t nothing.

“It’s awesome, Luke,” she says.

“What’s awesome?” her mom asks from behind her. “Being on time for school is awesome, you know.”

“Mom, look what Lucas got me,” she says. When she sees it, her mom’s face lights up, looking from the door to her brother.

“That’s pretty great, Lucas,” she tells him, making him look at the ground, swinging his and Gideon’s intertwined hands. “Why don’t I put this in your room for you. That way you guys can get to school on time.”

They nod and bid Emma goodbye before heading off to school, Lucas and Gideon still holding hands.

“So Hope, how does it feel being 15?” Lucas asks.

“Weirdly, I don’t feel different,” she confesses. “Should I?”

“Nah,” he replies, waving his free hand. “You won’t feel the crushing weight of your own morality until you’re 16.” Gideon digs his boyfriend in the ribs, laughing.

“And then when you’re 17 it’s an existential crisis, according to Alex,” Gideon says. “It’s not too bad, kid.”

Hope nods, thinking about the year she’d had. Being born in May meant she had watched all her friends turning 15 before her. She had viewed turning 15 as a right of passage, moving away from your awkward preteen years and into a fully fledged teenager, the next step towards adulthood. But now, especially in her school uniform with the skirt reaching to her knees (while her grandmother was quite relaxed about it, Mrs Hubbard, their vice principal, was adamant that the skirts be regulation length) and pink hair tie, she still feels like a kid. She touches the edge of her hair tie gently. She hadn’t thought much when she put it on that morning, not even noticing the colour, but now she regrets it painfully.

Letting her arm dangle by her side, she waves her wrist gently and smiles as the hair tie changes from pink to black.

“Morning, people!” a voice calls just before they reach the school. All three turn their heads to see a slightly out of breath Philip jogging towards them. He pushes his too-long black hair out of his eyes and gives them a welcoming smile.

“Hey, Phil,” Lucas greets, bumping his fist against his. Hope wrinkles her nose. She supposes she’ll never get teenage boys.

“Happy birthday, Hope,” he says. “My parents are going to your thing tonight so your pres-” He cuts himself off, wincing.

“You weren’t meant to tell me that, were you?” she asks, giggling.

“No I was not,” he confirms with a grimace. Sometimes they had joked that Philip and Lucas must have been switched as babies, given they were only born two days apart, since Philip can’t keep a secret. The four of them laugh it off, crossing the courtyard under the May sunshine and into the school.

Inside, Hope stands at her locker, putting books in and out, while stopping to thank people who wished her a happy birthday. As the Saviour’s daughter and Snow White’s granddaughter, she was as close to a celebrity as she could be in Storybrooke; and everyone knew when her birthday was. Most of her classmates had either attended her naming ceremony as babies or their mothers had been pregnant with them at the time. There’s a photo in the living room on the day of her naming ceremony of her in her mom’s arms, Gideon in Belle’s, Lucas in Snow’s, Robin in Zelena’s and a lot of other babies with their moms. And with fame came frankly, more attention than she’s comfortable with. Especially since for a lot of those kids barely spoke to her outside of her birthday.

“Heyo,” someone says from behind her, followed by a word not appropriate for school. She knows who it is before she turns around. Robin Mills leans against one of the lockers, presenting her with a huge candy bar and a card in a pale blue envelope.

“Robin!” she squeaks. “Thank you.” She slides the chocolate into her bag and opens up the card, which displays a picture of a bowl of peas with the phrase ‘Ha-pea Birthday’ written in black block lettering. She looks up at Robin. “Did you pick this?”

“Hey, me and Alex spent a long time in that card shop!” she insists. Sure enough, when Hope opens the card, it reads; _‘To Hope, Happy 15 th girl. Go crazy. From, Robin and Alex.’_ “Unfortunately she had cheer practice this morning. But she wants me to convey the birthday wishes. So you know…” She waves her arms around awkwardly. “Wishes conveyed.”

“Thank you, Robin,” she says sincerely.

“Of course,” she says. She opens her mouth as if to ask something, but suddenly looks over Hope’s shoulder, her tongue darting out to the corner of her mouth. Hope can’t even ask before she hears another, unmistakable voice behind her.

“Hey Hope!” She jumps and turns around to see Melody Fisher, Ariel’s daughter, just behind her. Today she’s tying her hair back with a lilac ribbon, in a low ponytail, and wearing tiny silver dolphin earrings. And smiling. She’s always smiling, and it sends Hope’s heart into overdrive.

“Hi Melody,” she says in an attempt to be casual.

“Hi,” she says again. “Um, happy birthday.”

“Oh, thanks,” she replies, rubbing the back of her neck. “Yeah I’m not trying to make a big deal out of it…”

“Oh,” Melody replies, her face falling slightly. “Well, I hope it’s not too much, but I got you this.” She holds out a box wrapped in blue paper. “Just a little something, it’s really not that great.”

“Thanks,” she says, taking it from her after a brief hesitation. “Thanks so much, you really didn’t have to do that.” She unwraps it, her fingers seemingly forgetting to work. She feels her face get warm and hopes she isn’t blushing. When she gets the paper off, she finds it to be a box of colouring pencils. Hope lifts the lid and runs her finger down them; they’re strong and sturdy, and she can tell just by looking at them they’re vibrant.

“I mean I know you like art,” Melody explains. “And I thought that-”

“They’re awesome!” Hope interrupts. “They’re awesome, Melody. Thank you, thank you so much.” She and Melody laugh, and Hope tries not to focus on her eyes. Her perfect eyes that sparkle when she laughs. Melody scratches the back of her neck, chewing her lip slightly.

“Um, I should get to my homeroom,” she says.

“Yeah, of course, yeah,” Hope says. “And, thanks. Again. These are… these are great.” Melody nods and gives her a small wave before heading down the hall. Hope’s eyes follow her, her heart fluttering as she goes. She bites her lip, the butterflies in her stomach going crazy.

“Wow,” Robin says, looking between her and Melody. “You have it so bad.”

“You have it bad,” she shoots back, which only makes Robin chuckle.

“Gosh, Hope, just ask the poor girl out,” she tells her.

“Seriously?” Hope splutters. “First off, how do you even know I like her?” Robin raises her eyebrows but remains silent. “Second off, even if I did like her, I don’t know if she likes girls. Or you know, likes me.”

“Aw, kid,” she says, patting her cheek. Hope scowls and wriggles away from her. “Trust me, she does.”

“Really?” she asks, her voice much higher than usual.

“Yeah, really.” She taps the box of pencils in Hope’s hand. “No one goes out and buys that for someone they don’t like.” Hope looks down at them, trying not to smile. Her hands shake and she holds the box tighter, like it’s Melody herself. Before she can ask anything else, the bell rings. “And I have to get to class.”

“Me too,” Hope sighs, closing her locker. “See you later.”

“Happy birthday kid,” she says again, wrapping her in a quick, light, one armed hug before heading off to homeroom.

Much later on, after school and homework and the usual “how was your day”, Hope and the rest of her family (often dubbed the Swan-Jones-French clan, which was fine for all parties involved) were making their way to Granny’s diner, Hope dressed in black jeans with a gold thread running up the sides, a crisp white shirt and red boots, a compromise she and her parents agreed on. If she had it her way, she’d be wearing overalls and a hoodie, but sadly, she can’t have everything. The fourth in line for the throne can’t be seen at her own birthday party in paint-splattered jeans.

The inside of Granny’s is spectacularly lit up, tables pushed to the side to accommodate the guests who had joined for her birthday. Hope pulls at her shirt, shrinking back a little into her family. All eyes being on her wasn’t an entirely comfortable experience. Frankly, she was more excited for tomorrow night when it would be her and a few good friends wreaking havoc in her living room. Guests are packed wall to wall, all here to celebrate the Princess’ birthday. A silver banner saying “Happy Birthday Hope” in large, colourful letters hands from the ceiling, rainbow coloured balloons sit in the corners and dotted around the room.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Granny says from the side, standing behind the counter.

“Thank you Granny,” she replies sincerely. She looks to the side, where the buffet of hot food sits on the counter, dishes full of fries, burgers, chicken strips and wings, onion rings (no doubt requested by her mom) and tries not to stare at it, but she is hungry and this is likely going to be the highlight of the night.

“Come on, let’s get some food,” her mom says, apparently reading her mind. At the bar, Hope piles her plate with a bit of everything she can, despite Gideon telling her she can come back for seconds if she wants. This is far from her first rodeo and she knows that the chicken wings especially go quickly. She piles up her plate and slides into a booth with her parents and Aunt Belle, her mom’s plate looking similar to her own.

Philip and his parents pass their table, Aurora with a small box wrapped in blue paper.

“Oh my gosh, Philip!” she says, her voice high and laced with sarcasm. “I didn’t know you were coming here!” Her mom laughs and has to disguise it with a drink.

“You blabbed, didn’t you?” Aurora asks fondly, ruffling his hair, making Philip scrunch up his face. “Anyway, now that we have you, is it okay to give presents now?”

“Don’t see why not,” Emma says. Aurora beams and hands Hope over the box.

“Philip pushed us in the right direction,” she says, rubbing her son’s back fondly. Philip hides his smile beneath his hair as Hope tears off the wrapping paper. Inside is two novels, one with a blue cover depicting a silhouette of a tree, and the other with a dark red cover with a silver sword.

“Oh my god!” Hope exclaims, reading the spines. “Renee Hamilton? I love these books; how did you know I love these books?”

“Because you were reading one last week and you said loudly, to all of us, ‘I love these books’,” Philip replies dryly, but smiling.

“Thank you,” she says, laughing. She looks past him to his relieved parents. “Thank you so much.”

From then, the rest of the room takes the cue to start handing out their own presents. A new jacket from Ella, Thomas and Alexandra (which matches the one of Alex’s that she had been admiring), pyjamas and watercolour paints from her grandparents and Lucas and a snow globe of Oz from Robin and Zelena (assured her, and more importantly her family, that she did not trap the inhabitants of Oz in a snow globe).

“Okay, here,” Belle says, handing her over a box wrapped in green sparkly paper. “This is from me and Gideon.” Hope catches Gideon’s eye. Despite how much they argue, he always manages to get her exactly what she wanted. Not just her, anyone he buys something for.

When she sees what’s underneath the wrapping paper, it seems he’s done it again; she finds a box containing bright red sneakers, ones she had stared at unsubtly in a catalogue. She knows they came straight from New York. She touches the white edges gently, flicking the toe of them. They’re tough, but somehow soft at the same time, and they have that amazing new shoe smell. They look too perfect to wear, but she can’t wait to get them on, her current sneakers suddenly feeling too tight and uncomfortable.

“Okay, why don’t you put them on?” her mom says fondly. “Since you’re clearly dying to?”

Hope doesn’t need to be told twice. She takes off her boots and slides the sneakers on, tying the laces tightly in a double knot, jumping up, bouncing, testing them out. They fit perfectly, like they were made just for her.

“Thank you,” she says to Belle and Gideon, not stopping her bouncing. “Thank you thank you thank you.” If she wasn’t in public, she’d hug them. Belle however seems to read her mind and hugs her tightly.

“You’re welcome,” she says softly.

“Anything for you, kid,” Gideon says, smiling. She’ll hug the hell out of him later tonight, he can count on that.

“And finally,” her mom says from behind. She turns around to see her dad carrying in a long, flat box covered in pink wrapping paper and setting it on the bar with a flourish. “The one from Mom and Dad.” Hope bites her lip, grinning as she runs over to the bar and pulls herself onto the stool, tearing the paper from the bottom up. She rips it away to reveal a smooth dark wooden box. After laying her hand on it and knocking, trying to guess what’s inside, she flips the two little golden latches and opens it.

What’s inside takes her breath away. Resting on a dark red velvet bed, a black handled sword, its curved blade tucked inside a metal sheath. The light catches on the handle, making it shine in all the colours of the rainbow. She runs her finger along the handle, the rest of the room silent.

“Can I…” she whispers, looking to her dad.

“Of course.”

Her hand curls around the handle and her other hand around the leather sheath, lifting it out of the box. She secures the sheath against her waist, fitting snuggly there like it was made specially for her, tailored to every curve and flaw of her body.

When she lifts the sword out, it comes out in one swift action. The blade is so clean she can see her reflection, the sharp edges gleaming in the overhead light. It looks harmless, beautiful and alluring, almost silver, but she doesn’t even need to touch the edges to know it would cut through her skin like it was paper.

“Woah,” she breathes.

“You bought her a sword?” she hears her grandfather ask, and it’s at that moment she becomes re-aware of the fact she’s not alone. She slides the sword back into its sheath without a word.

“Technically it’s a cutlass,” her dad replies, draining his glass of lemonade.

“It’s still a weapon,” he points out.

“Well, every kid should know how to use one at some point,” her mom explains. “Especially in this family.” Her grandfather opens his mouth, as if to protest, but seems to think the better of it and closes it. She slides the sword into its sheath, the weight against her hip somehow comforting.

“That’s so cool,” Lucas says, sitting at the bar next to where her dad put the box down. “Can I-”

“Absolutely not, Lucas!” her grandmother interrupts. “You still have the scar from your last sword related adventure.”

“Mom, Dad,” Hope says, after laughing just a little at Lucas. “Thank you, thank you so much.” She forgets stupid things like dignity and reputation and hugs them around the waist. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“We knew you’d like it, Cygnet,” her mom says, stroking her hair. “Now we can start real fighting lessons,” she whispers, out of earshot of her grandparents.” Hope grins and buries her face in her mom’s chest, making the group hug as tight as she possibly can. “And there’s one more…”

“Happy birthday to you!” Hope’s face floods red as she turns around to the entire diner serenading her. “Happy birthday, dear Hope!” Granny comes in from the kitchen with one of the waiters, carrying a towering three-layered chocolate cake, covered in different types of candy, with a 15 candle and a sparkler on the top. As it gets closer, she can see the intricate details on it; small marzipan bunnies and edible trees, a pumpkin sitting at the bottom and despite everything, she throws her head back and squeals in delight, her cheeks turning pink.

God damn it, she loves her family. Her crazy, huge family.

“Come on kid, blow out those candles,” Granny tells her. “Don’t want wax dripping onto that cake.”

“Make a wish, kid,” her mom tells her, pressing her lips to her head before letting her go. Hope steps up to it, the glow of the candles lighting up her face as she thinks about a wish, knowing not to waste it on something stupid like good grades or a pony.

A face catches her attention beside her and inspiration strikes.

 _I wish I could ask Melody out_ she thinks, blowing out the candle. The diner bursts into applause while Granny starts cutting the cake.

“Do I get to know what you wished for?” her mom asks, hugging her from behind.

“Of course not. I need it to come true,” she replies. She notices a small white card on the bottom of the cake and frowns, taking note of the cursive writing in silver. She steps out of her mom’s embrace and picks it up, wiping chocolate off it.

_To Hope/Cygnet/Birthday Girl_

_So sorry I couldn’t be with you on your actual birthday. Unfortunately I’m tied up in LA on set. I wish I could be there to see you turning 15. Still, I hope the cake I ordered to be made from LA’s best chefs and sent to Storybrooke will satisfy until I get there._

_Your big (always big) brother, Henry._

Hope turns to face her mom, raising an eyebrow.

“Did you know about this?” she asks, showing her the card.

“Not until this morning when he told me,” she replies, shrugging. “I’m sorry he couldn’t be here.”

“It’s fine,” Hope says. “Not his fault. And anyway… this is a pretty great present.”

“Yeah it is,” she chuckles. “Speaking of, why don’t you get in there before Lucas and Philip demolish it?” Hope turns around and nods. She knows from experience what they’re like with food. Plus it’s her cake and she’s determined to try every layer. She makes to run over to it but pauses in her tracks. She turns back to her mom, who is smiling at the little card Henry made her. Her mom, her funny, comforting mom who always knows what to say to her. Her mom, who got her the most amazing sword for her birthday and went out to get her chocolate chips specially and bought rainbow laces just last week like she knew Hope would be getting new sneakers.

“Hey mom?” she says, making her look up. She balls her hands into fists and sticks them in the pockets of her jacket. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Cygnet,” she says.

Smiling, and her heart pounding, Hope takes a more than generous slice of cake and slides into a booth with her friends, eating and laughing until her stomach hurts and then eating some more because she can, and no one is going to tell her no, setting up an impromptu tic tac toe tournament and doing stupid, food related dares.

She’s still a kid, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and kudos if you liked, I crave validation.  
> Also if you'd like to see more of Hope's adventures with her friends, you can check out my fic A New Hope :)


End file.
